


the moon is right

by couldaughter



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 23:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: “Oh,” Dirk said, the light of realisation dawning on his face. “Right. Christmas. Yes. A holiday celebrated by me, certainly, every year of my life. Um.”





	the moon is right

Despite what Todd had expected, Dirk hadn’t seemed terribly invested in decorating for the holiday season when it rolled around, a few months into running the agency and about the same time removed from their trip to Wendimoor. What with Dirk’s taste in clothes, accessories and vehicles, Todd had expected he’d be extremely into the garish kind of festive decor. A full week of December rolled by by the time Todd realised Dirk did not, in fact, have some kind of Christmas cannon set up in a cupboard, just waiting for him to drop his guard.

Todd had dutifully put up the menorah Amanda had donated from their parent’s house, dredged up the prayer every night of Hanukkah to Dirk’s general amazement, and hung up a couple of meters of tinsel, but Dirk - Dirk didn’t contribute at all, at first. He wore a horrendous Christmas jumper at Amanda’s suggestion, as far as Todd could work out, a monstrosity in rainbow and glitter, and there was at least one light up tie, but nothing that ended up stuck to the office walls.

“You gonna add anything?” Todd asked from where he was stood balanced precariously on an office chair, hanging Farah’s string lights across the window.

Dirk, looking up belatedly from the file he was reshuffling, blinked. “Add what, Todd?”

“Decorations, Dirk,” Todd replied, gesturing towards the sparkling array of tinsel. It made him wobble, just slightly; Dirk stood up and steadied him almost before Todd realised he’d moved. “Can’t just be me and Farah holding the fort on this, y’know.”

“Oh,” Dirk said, the light of realisation dawning on his face. “Right. Christmas. Yes. A holiday celebrated by me, certainly, every year of my life. Um.” He looked away, something flickering in his eyes that Todd couldn’t quite catch.

Todd got off the chair. “Hey, it’s cool if you don’t want to,” he said. “It was just an idea. I don’t wanna dominate the decor, I guess.”

Dirk shrugged. “I’ll see if there’s anything I can find,” he said, eventually. “I don’t exactly have anything in storage here, y’know, what with the transatlantic flight and the kidnapping and all that. And, well. I suppose you might not be surprised to hear that I haven’t exactly had many Christmas opportunities, considering, um, my whole life?”

With a smile edging towards dangerously fond, Todd put a bracing hand on Dirk’s shoulder. “Well, I’m looking forward to whatever you come up with. I reserve the right to veto anything dangerous, though. No venus fly traps with santa hats or whatever your brain’s about to suggest.”

Dirk looked crestfallen for a moment, then smothered it with a grin. Todd rolled his eyes.

\--

There was mistletoe hung above the agency’s front door.

Todd noted this with complete detachment, coming in as he was with three cups of coffee and a large manila folder tucked under his arm, and definitely did not jump, startled, when Dirk almost collided with him directly underneath said parasitic organism.

That would be ridiculous.

“Morning, Dirk,” he said, holding out the tray of coffee with a nod. “Got you the sugar explosion one again, god knows what it’s doing to your pancreas.”

“My pancreas is a model of efficiency, thank you very much Todd,” Dirk replied, taking a sip of coffee with a sigh of contentment. Todd felt a blush beginning to creep up his neck, strangely reluctant to keep his eyes away from Dirk’s mouth and immediate whipped cream moustache. 

It was definitely a problem, finding something like that adorable.

They went their separate ways, then, each to his own desk, and Todd tried very hard not to glance upwards when he went. A guy had to have some self-respect, after all, and kissing Dirk at the office would not only be unprofessional but also, probably, unwelcome.

However much he regretted some of the consequences of Dirk entering his life - the implosion of his relationship with Amanda (his fault, really), the onset of his actual, real pararibulitis (karma, if you asked him), or the terrible dye job on his hair (definitely his own fault) - he didn’t regret keeping his hat in the holistic ring, so to speak. Getting to know Dirk was its own reward, if you knew how to talk to him.

It helped that Dirk was fairly attractive, with the hair, and the arms, and the whole face thing. Todd tried to avoid thinking about it at work, but he did occasionally catch himself drifting dangerously close to daydreaming at his desk.

“Morning, Farah!” Dirk was chipper that morning, a state of being Todd had once found irritating and was now, generally speaking, grateful for. It was better for all of them for Dirk to be on his game; the alternative had been much less peaceful for Todd than he’d hoped. And definitely not a good time for Dirk, more importantly.

Farah waved at him from the kitchenette, stirring a cup of yoghurt absently. “Morning, Dirk. Morning, Todd.”

Todd joined her by the fridge, pausing to grab a yoghurt of his own. “Doing alright?” He asked, fumbling slightly with the foil top.

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Farah, with her usual brisk tone. She smiled. “Got a call from Tina last night, she says she and Hobbs might be able to make it up for New Year’s.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Todd grinned back at her. “Feels like it’s been forever since we last saw them.”

“Mmmm,” said Farah, a faraway look in her eyes. She was wearing Hobbs’ letterman jacket, a mainstay in her wardrobe since they’d returned to Seattle. Todd had caught her hugging it more than once, curled up in her office chair with a soft smile. “Hopefully this time there’ll be less magic and gunfights.”

“Well, you never know. We might get lucky.” The foil top finally peeled back, and Todd took a victorious spoonful of yoghurt with another grin. 

“So,” he said eventually, yoghurt almost empty. “I see Dirk finally got in on the office decor contest.”

“It’s an unofficial contest,” Farah replied. “But I just want you to know - I’m definitely winning.” She smiled, eyes narrowed slightly. 

Todd patted her on the shoulder. “Oh, for sure. My nana’s menorah is nothing on those string lights.” He ducked away from a light punch to his arm with a laugh. “Anyway, better get to work. Keep an eye out for mistletoe snipers, alright?”

Farah snorted. “In this office? I’ll be fine.”

The office didn’t really have offices, per se, but Dirk’s desk was set up around a corner from Todd and Farah’s work area, so it was what Dirk had begun calling a para-official office-like structure. He was working on shortening the name.

As a result, it was fairly easy for Todd to forget that Dirk could hear their conversations from a decent distance away. Nothing bad had actually come of it, given that of the entire population of the world Todd and Farah were in the extreme minority who wouldn’t talk about Dirk behind his back, but it still made Todd jump slightly when Dirk stuck his head around the corner to rebut one of their points.

“Not to worry, Farah,” he put in, head at a slightly dizzying angle. “I have no designs on your honour, currently, and very few designs on Todd’s.”

Todd ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flush a conspicuous pink. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly, all told. They were working on a case which Dirk believed, optimistically, might actually get resolved with zero deaths, so the mood in the office was considerably lighter than it had been during their previous case - an unpleasant business involving a bowl of petunias, a scrabble bag and a cage of white mice. 

By the time five rolled around, sky dark and star-ridden outside the picture windows, Todd was on top of his paperwork and very ready to head back to his apartment and, with some luck, get a full night of sleep. 

It was that kind of complacency, he reflected later, that got him into the whole holistic mess to begin with.

“Night, guys,” Farah called, flicking off the light in the kitchenette and leaving the office bathed in the comforting glow of their desk lamps. “See you tomorrow.”

“Night, Farah,” they chorused back. It was getting to be a habit, and not one Todd was inclined to break, to wish each other goodnight. Usually Dirk made a vaguely menacing comment about bedbugs, probably just to freak Todd out, but that night he restrained himself.

“Christmas spirit getting to you?” Todd asked as he shrugged into his winter coat.

Dirk shrugged. “I can’t just rely on old standards these days! I have to develop some new material. Workshop a few ideas. Get some really constructive feedback, you know?”

“Oh, of course,” said Todd, smiling fondly. Distracted by the conversation, he didn’t realise he’d paused in the doorway until he found Dirk stood about six inches away, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What?”

Dirk glanced up meaningfully. Todd followed his gaze to - oh, right. The goddamn mistletoe.

“Oh.” Todd winced. “Um, I can move?”

“No,” said Dirk, clearly considering something very carefully. His eyes actually twinkled in the low light, the handsome bastard. “I think you’re alright just where you are.”

It was at that point that Todd discovered what it was like to be kissed by Dirk Gently; soft, and sweet, and kind of intense in a scattered way. A+ for effort, definitely.

Todd floundered slightly before his hands came to rest on Dirk’s shoulders; he curled his fingers into the soft leather of his jacket, much too thin for the winter chill, and kissed back.

“ _Well_ ,” said Dirk when he pulled back, some time later. “I have to admit, Todd, I was a bit worried you might not get the hint.”

“Mmmm,” Todd hummed, eyes once again fixed on Dirk’s mouth. It was much redder than usual. “Could’ve done with a neon sign, maybe. Flashing lights. A carnival barker inviting me to roll up, roll up.”

“Lydia Spring gave Farah four million dollars, Todd, not four _billion_.” Dirk smiled down at him, not a trace of the condescension in his voice visible in the lines of his mouth.

Todd, with infinite patience, kissed him again. It was a hell of a lot more effective than telling him to shut up.

A lot more fun, too.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS SILLY AND I WROTE IT IN HALF AN HOUR. #caveat
> 
> For real though, love these horrible boys and their horrible love for one another. Happy holidays to everyone, and I hope everyone who celebrates has a wonderful Christmas.
> 
> Fic is unedited because it's 23:48 on Christmas Eve, and if I don't get this out now it will be unseasonal for 365 days. A terrible fate, and one I must avoid.
> 
> Title from, of course, Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney.
> 
> Find me on tumblr and twitter @dotsayers, having opinions and loving Dirk No-Given-Middle-Name Gently with my whole heart.


End file.
